


Ajar

by didipickles



Series: Domestic Disputes [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: A lot of reassurance and love, Anxious David, Domestic Spat, M/M, Reassuring Patrick, a bit of angst, a bit of anxiety, a bit of humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 09:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20240554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/pseuds/didipickles
Summary: On a usual night, hearing the little sounds Patrick made in his sleep filled David with warmth and a comfortable expanding feeling deep in his chest. Tonight, however, every single sound and movement pushed David further from sleep, because tonight, David knew that two drawers and a cabinet were slightly open a mere 15 feet from where he lay, courtesy of the man currently asleep and oblivious beside him.*David tries to prove he can handle one of Patrick's habits. He can't.





	Ajar

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is a sequel to [Over/Under](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20115802).

The slow steadiness of Patrick’s breath on his shoulder normally relaxed David. On a usual night, hearing the little sounds Patrick made in his sleep filled David with warmth and a comfortable expanding feeling deep in his chest. Tonight, however, every single sound and movement pushed David further from sleep, because tonight, David knew that two drawers and a cabinet were slightly open a mere 15 feet from where he lay, courtesy of the man currently asleep and oblivious beside him.

It wasn’t the first time Patrick had casually left something open, but normally David would fix it and move on. Tonight, David had gone to bed without closing them because he wanted to prove he could. Not to Patrick, who didn’t even know how wrong it was, but to himself. After the whole _ incident _ with the toilet paper and Patrick’s dirty rotten unfair tactics, Patrick wouldn’t let it go. He’d find the most ridiculous, obscure moments to drop a kiss on David’s shoulder and whisper something along the lines of “maybe I’ll flip the toilet paper tonight” or “you were so close to winning that bet,” something that would make David fumble whatever he was doing as he tried to push aside the memory of how much he hated letting Patrick win but how much he’d _ loved _ letting Patrick win. 

Except now, David was awake past midnight, his body growing more and more agitated the longer he laid there and thought about cabinets and drawers and Patrick being surprisingly apathetic about _ how things should be _ in his home for someone who had six different systems for organizing _ how things should be _in the office at the store. He was in the middle of forming an exit strategy from the bed - involving a tricky extraction from beneath Patrick’s arm across his stomach - when he realized Patrick’s heavy sleep-breathing was gone. Turning his head, David saw Patrick’s eyes open and trained on him. Well shit, now if he got up to rectify the incredibly incorrect kitchen situation, Patrick would know it bothered him and probably troll him for the rest of eternity.

“What are you still doing up?” Patrick asked in his adorably soft sleepy voice. He shifted so he was facing David fully, his chest pressed against David’s side, and slipped his hand under David’s sleep shirt and over his chest. “Why does your heartbeat feel like you just saw a moth in here?”

_ Because you have the house manners of a toddler! Because the cabinet doors are supposed to be closed! Because I don’t understand how you can sleep while a drawer is open! _

“Thinking about the batch of avocado face creams that is going to expire at the end of the week,” David fibbed. He _ had _ been thinking about them at some point, and he knew Patrick would absolutely believe that perishable skincare had the potential to keep David awake at night. 

Patrick looked back at him with a mix of amusement and concern, a near-constant for his lovely face. “Nothing you can do about it now, David,” he mumbled, burying his lips in the sleeve over David’s shoulder. “Want me to help you relax?” he added, sliding his hand back down David’s stomach to hover above his pyjama pants.

As much as David hated to pass up that kind of offer, there was nothing sexy about cabinetry being used improperly, and he was positive any arousal would immediately wilt the second he remembered the state of the kitchen. Heaving a sigh, he turned to kiss Patrick’s forehead and then rolled over and scooted back against Patrick. Height difference be damned, David needed to be the little spoon sometimes, and a cabinetry-induced anxiety spiral definitely qualified. “I think I just need to sleep, but,” he pulled Patrick’s hand to his lips and kissed the center of his palm, “I will gladly rain check one relaxation hand job, to be cashed in at a future time.”

The soft huff of Patrick’s laugh at the back of his neck was enough to tamp David’s annoyance for the moment. “Noted, David. Good night.” David felt a brush of lips at the nape of his neck. Approximately 30 seconds later, Patrick’s breaths had evened, easily slipping back into sleep. So unfair. 

Getting to sleep was a bit easier with Patrick’s arm slung over David’s hip. He could do this, he could manage one night with cabinet doors open. But only one night. Patrick was not going to win this round.

***

The next morning, David made sure to get up the first time his alarm sounded. If his plan was going to pan out, he needed to make sure he was in the kitchen when Patrick made their usual morning coffee and tea. Trying desperately to seem casual, David opened the refrigerator and stared at its contents, making a mental list of things they needed to buy in case Patrick asked why he was looking for so long. He jumped when he felt Patrick’s hand on his back, too wrapped up in thinking of a cover story to have noticed his prey had entered the room.

Patrick gave him a raised eyebrow but didn’t press, just turned to the counter and got to work on their morning beverages. Okay, David thought, show time. As nonchalantly as possible, David closed the refrigerator and turned to walk toward Patrick, and hit his head on the open cabinet door, then bumped into one of the drawers that had been left open last night.

“Oh, fuck, ow!” he wailed, rubbing the spot on his head that had barely grazed the cabinet door while his other hand rubbed his hip, which actually _ did _ hurt after the contact with the corner of the drawer. 

Patrick’s head snapped up, immediate alarm quickly giving way to a fond but exasperated head shake. “How often do I tell you to look where you’re going?” he said, looking back down at the tea he was preparing. “It’s a wonder we haven’t had any hospital visits yet.”

David’s jaw dropped. Seriously, Patrick was going to play this off as _ David’s _fault? Nope, nuh-uh, not this time, Brewer.

“Well if _ somebody _ hadn’t left half the kitchen open last night, I wouldn’t have to navigate it like a minefield!”

A brief silence followed, and then Patrick looked up at David. The look in his eyes was a slightly unfamiliar one, which immediately set David off-balance. In previous flings, the mysterious unknown was a thrill; with Patrick, David loved knowing what every facial expression meant, and how long Patrick needed to be alone after his hockey troop lost a game, and what kind of tea he drank after a nightmare. David looked back at the unfamiliar face and waited, his pulse racing, until Patrick spoke slowly. “David, does it bother you that I leave the drawers and cabinets open?” 

He didn’t have any teasing in his voice, and David felt his shoulders come up just slightly, everything going tense. The seriousness etched onto his face sent David’s thoughts spiraling. Had he finally found the glass edge of Patrick’s tolerance and sent a large crack across it? _ Wait, tease me about it, tell me I’m being unreasonable, make a silly bet with me. _

Slowly, very slowly, David looked up from where he’d dropped his gaze to his hands, meeting Patrick’s eyes again. He didn’t look angry, or silly, or happy, or annoyed. He just looked back. “Yes,” David said with a small voice. He hated this part. “I’m sorry.”

In three steps Patrick was in front of him, hand under his chin so he could hold his gaze. Where before his face was blank, it now housed at least seven different emotions that all threatened to choke David. “Please don’t say that,” Patrick whispered. 

David had anticipated getting his come-uppance this morning, maybe some flirty bantering, but he had not been remotely prepared for this. Could anyone ever be prepared for the unambiguous look of love and protectiveness that Patrick currently had? “I don’t...don’t say what?” David whispered back, bewildered. Hadn’t they just been talking about cabinets?

Patrick leaned up, closing the space even more between them. “Please don’t apologize to me for something bothering you. I know that you - ” Patrick paused and closed his eyes, giving his head an almost imperceptible shake before moving on. “I know people have made you feel like your thoughts and wants don’t matter, but don’t apologize for telling me how you feel.”

Sometimes Patrick would do this. David would be skating along the surface, content with keeping things light, and then Patrick would grab him by both hands and pull him to a depth that David didn’t know existed before, cutting straight through the padded humor and teasing to the very core of David’s heart. It would have terrified him before, but with Patrick’s hand in his, David found he didn’t mind so much.

“I don’t like when you leave the drawers and cabinets open,” David responded, his voice still very quiet. “It makes me feel anxious and I don’t like it.” The words came from him without a second thought. He trusted Patrick, a gift he’d never quite gotten over and would certainly never take for granted.

Patrick kissed his cheek and whispered a quiet, “thank you, David.” David was about to remark on the strange feeling of being thanked for telling someone they were making him anxious, but then Patrick pulled back, his head tilted to one side. “Wait, is that why you were still awake last night?” The teasing edge was back, and David’s entire body softened in response. He merely bit the inside of his cheek in response, drawing a laugh from Patrick who pulled him into a tight hug, dropping a kiss to his neck as he did.

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me things, David. I’m not going to be mad at you,” Patrick murmured into his shoulder.

David made a sound of disbelief and pulled back. “No, you’ll just troll me over the course of _ months _ about it!”

“Okay, the toilet paper thing was brilliant. Stevie said so,” Patrick said, his eyes glinting with their usual mischief. 

“Stevie is a gremlin,” David shot back, his whole face a smile.

Patrick laughed and kissed David for a few seconds. His face went back to serious when he pulled away. “I mean it though, David. If it’s something that’s really important to you or makes you anxious, please don’t keep it from me. I want you to be comfortable here.”

With an eyeroll, David grabbed Patrick’s shoulders, trying to absorb the steadiness Patrick exuded. “So making me comfortable is rolling toilet paper across the bathroom floor, got it.” The responding shit-eating grin from Patrick had David shaking his head and laughing again, until he too went a bit serious. “Thank you. For, um. Making me feel safe? In your space.”

“I’ll work on the cabinet thing. I want you to feel safe. I want you in my space,” Patrick replied, his voice low and a bit gruff. He pressed closer, hand sliding up David’s back. “In fact, I want you in my space right now.”

David glanced at the clock. Since he’d gotten up with his first alarm, they were technically still ahead of schedule. Raising an eyebrow, he looked back to Patrick. “15 minutes.”

Patrick smirked and grabbed David’s hand, tea and coffee forgotten, and pulled him back to the bed. “What will we do with the other 9?”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to the endless stream of motivation from the Rosebudd, especially those who gave me endless ideas for domestic disputes. special shoutout to [simplytheschittiest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplytheschittiest/pseuds/simplytheschittiest) for providing this specific prompt.
> 
> find me on tumblr @thedidipickles and twitter @didipickles2


End file.
